


Rose-Tinted Glasses

by Xenobotanist



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Friends to... Something else, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season 4 Episode 1-2, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Snarky Garak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 00:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: Garak got beat up by a gang of Klingons, and Julian healed him.But this time around, the conversation changed just a little.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Rose-Tinted Glasses

Julian paced around the biobed. “I can’t believe you’re not pressing charges.” He extended the tricorder’s sensor pen, checking one last time to ensure that the subdermal hemorrhaging had stopped.

“Constable Odo and Captain Sisko expressed similar concerns. But really, doctor, there was no harm done,” Garak proclaimed, raising his newly-healed brows with excessive sincerity. 

Julian pretended not to notice the brand new, smooth scales still reforming over the orbital ridges, and didn’t let his eyes linger on the crease that stubbornly remained across Garak’s chufa, something that would take time to mold back into shape as the tissues beneath produced more keratin. As vain as the tailor was, he decided it would be best not to draw attention to what would likely be viewed as flaws.

What Julian _could_ point out, though, was how dire the situation had actually been. “You do realize they broke seven of your transverse ribs and fractured your clavicle?” He moved to the other side of the bed and ran a final scan over said ribs, noting extensive scarring in the region that had existed even before that day’s injuries. It was a miracle they hadn’t splintered, really.

Garak remained mostly still, except for his running mouth. “But I got off several cutting remarks, which no doubt did serious damage to their egos.”

The man was incorrigible! “Garak, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious, doctor.” Sure he was. “Thanks to your ministrations, I am almost completely healed. But the damage I did to them will last a _lifetime.”_

Okay, that was it. 

“You’re mad, Garak. Absolutely bonkers. You manage to infuriate a gang of Klingons, nearly get yourself _killed,_ and here you are joking about it.” Julian narrowed his eyes at the gormless (hah!) expression. Something occurred to him. “You’ve been very blasé about all this. You had those remarks ready and waiting for me, didn’t you? I bet you came up with them while you were lying there in your shop, bleeding away on the floor. ‘The doctor’s going to be furious,’ you realized. ‘I had better come up with something _really_ good when he starts getting at me.’ That was probably your last thought before you blacked out.”

Garak dropped the hand he’d been gesticulating with. “Actually, my last thought was that they did a remarkably poor job of intimidating me. _Five_ Klingons to take down one innocent Cardassian tailor? And they didn’t even puncture one vital organ.”

Julian held back a snort. “Innocent my left arse cheek.” Was that almost a smile from Garak? There’d definitely been a glimmer in his eye. “Odo said you understood what they said, even when the leader purposely made it bypass the universal translator. _Where_ , may I ask, did you pick up that little trick?” He perched on the bottom corner of the biobed, his innocent left arse cheek nearly touching Garak’s ankle.

Raising his chin haughtily, Garak sat up and brushed imaginary dust from the sleeve of his tunic. “Klingon leather is a terribly tricky material to work with, doctor, and its secrets are jealously guarded. In order to understand the _true_ character of the textile and how to work with it, one must read the care instructions in the original tlhIngan Hol. I think you’ll find that many tailors are polylingual for just this reason.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.” He laid a hand on Garak’s knee. The muscles twitched beneath his fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, though. I was really worried there, when they brought you in. One of the bystanders had said you weren’t breathing.”

The mask slipped away from Garak’s face for a moment. “I’m sorry, my dear doctor. I had no intention of causing you any alarm.” He patted Julian’s hand. “But there’s really no need to worry. It takes a lot more than a half-hearted beating by a few small-minded bigots to do me in.”

Julian flipped his hand over so that they were palm to palm and rubbed a thumb over Garak’s skin. “Glad to hear. Just try not to let it happen again, okay?”

“Why doctor, someone might think you cared.”

Julian lifted their joined hands to scoot closer and move them to his own leg. “Someone might. If they looked at it through a certain lens, I suppose.”

“And what sort of lens would that be?”

“Rose-tinted, I’d assume. The kind that makes everything look a little more…” Julian cocked his head to the side. “Charming. And caring.” 

Garak looked thoughtful. “Do the lenses do any good? I’m currently in the market for something to soften the glare of these dreadful lights. Perhaps you know a supplier?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Julian’s lips. “I don’t know if the lenses _do_ good so much as help you _see_ the good. I happen to have a pair or two myself. Maybe I could loan you one.”

“And what would you ask for as collateral?”

“Why don’t you come over after my shift ends, and we’ll see what we can work out? I can be very amenable. You could even say flexible.” Heart pounding, Julian ducked his head a little and peered up through his lashes, which fluttered with something between coyness and invitation.

Garak’s gaze sharpened before sliding down to where their hands were still joined. “That’s a tempting offer. No one has been so generous to me for quite some time.” He leaned forward and lowered the pitch of his voice, eyes darkening. “But I’ve never been known to turn down a proposition. Especially not from someone whose company is as pleasurable as yours.”

Julian’s eyes grew round as he swallowed audibly. But he managed a confident nod. “Then… I’ll see you tonight. 1900 hours. Try to avoid any more run-ins with Klingons.”

“Just for you, my dear doctor, I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a beginning?  
> Or are they already boinking like bunnies and just now thinking about something a little more serious? I’ll leave it up to you.


End file.
